Chapter 96: In the Same Cage with a Beast!

Chapter 96: Caged with the Beast!

The Allen Manor was an exceedingly secure place.

On the perimeter, several hired mercenary security teams took charge of protection and patrols.

Deep within, the family's faithful adherents, leading trustworthy youths from subordinate servant bloodlines, monitored every critical zone.

Inside the ancient castle stood Old Anderson and Mike, and Alfred remained almost constantly on the same floor.

Within the study, a protective formation offered its shield.

Thus, without a doubt, the study was the safest sanctuary in the entire Allen Manor.

Yet, every rule had its exception.

That exception was the young royal girl currently standing before him; she had entered the core area of the Allen Manor openly, accompanying her grandfather, Prince York.

Furthermore, instead of passing through the main door of the study, she had scaled the walls. Most crucially, by virtue of her lineage and under the surname Gloria, she had successfully awakened the ancestral inheritance of the First Ancestor Allen, which meant the study's formation did not reject her, allowing her entry.

The moment she stepped inside, the room that had been the safest haven for Karen instantly transformed into the most perilous trap.

And he had somehow become the cornered beast.

Judiya, right before his eyes, produced Prince Henry's severed hand and ate it as a casual snack. This implied only one thing: she did not believe he would ever reveal her secret.

And the most reliable keeper of secrets was a dead man.

Therefore, Karen knew all too well that this young girl had already branded his forehead with the mark of the doomed.

Yet he was utterly powerless. He was still merely a servant of the gods—even if, in Purr's words, he possessed an extraordinarily deep foundation, he remained just a servant.

Most frustrating of all, because he had only just completed his purification, he had not yet had the chance to learn the fundamental incantations of the Church of Order available to his station.

In other words,

Before this young girl, he stood completely defenseless, devoid of any resistance.

Indeed, if he held a revolver in his hand instead of pastries, his combat readiness would rise by an order of magnitude; unfortunately, he held a box of sandwich biscuits, chocolate-flavored at that.

Judiya continued to admire the portraits of Count Recar and the Queen while continuing her macabre snack.

Then,

Hearing the movement behind her, she turned her head to see Karen reversing the chair originally meant for guests and sitting down with utter naturalness.

Subsequently,

Karen slipped a small sandwich cake into his mouth, chewing as he offered a faint smile:

"Eating it raw like that is truly a waste of such fine ingredients."

"Oh?"

Judiya looked at Karen, her curiosity piqued.

"One should debone it first, taking care to preserve the cartilage. Then, let it marinate in seasonings for several hours to thoroughly absorb the flavor. Oh, and fresh lemon juice is absolutely essential to cut through the grease."

Karen was lecturing the young royal lady on the culinary preparation of boneless claws.

Judiya looked down at the snack in her hand, suddenly finding it far less appetizing.

Karen shook his head with an air of mock pity,

A subtle, mocking smile playing at the corners of his lips

As he said:

"Alas, still too young."

...

Inside the bedroom.

"Is it like this?" Alfred asked, gesturing toward Kevin the golden retriever while flipping through Mr. Hoffen's notes.

The golden retriever shook its head.

"Ah, not quite? Then how about this?"

The golden retriever shook its head again.

"It seems I have misunderstood once more."

Alfred realized that even if an evil god was reduced to the form of a dog, it remained an evil god nonetheless!

Perhaps Kevin could not comprehend exactly what Alfred was saying or gesturing at this moment, but the beast could instinctively nod or shake its head.

Alfred treasured this interaction as if it were pure gold, moved almost to tears of gratitude.

When the young master underwent purification, a true deity had descended to bestow a blessing.

Now, basking in the master's reflected glory, he had an evil god serving as his tutor while he studied.

Even if this divine instructor could only wag a canine head, the simple binary of right and wrong saved him from numerous detours and validated his correct choices.

"Ha, time for a little rest."

Alfred closed the notebook, stretched his arms, rubbed his thoroughly exhausted eyes, and stood up. Walking over to the windowsill, he noticed Purr perched there, reading through a set of notes with rapt attention.

"Are those the young master's notes?" Alfred inquired.

"Yes."

"I believe peering into the master's notes without his explicit permission is highly improper behavior."

"He left them right here on the windowsill himself after asking you to bring them over yesterday. I didn't look on purpose; I just happened to be lying here when a light breeze turned the pages.

Oh, radio sprite, open the window for me, if you please."

Alfred reached out and opened the window. As the wind swept inside, Purr immediately pinned down the unread page with a paw.

"Smack!"

"Alas, the wind is sometimes lacking in gentleness, quite prone to damaging the pages, meow."

Alfred leaned his head closer and persisted, "It would still be best to put it back."

"Well, this is by no means a diary."

"Even if it isn't a diary, it is hardly appropriate to secretly..."

"But if the faithful throughout history had never peeked at or secretly transcribed the works and utterances of the true gods, how would so many holy scriptures have survived to this day?

The Light of Order, the Records of Principles, the Epoch of Radiance, and the like—if the believers of those times hadn't read and recorded them just as we are doing now, would these classics have endured?

Furthermore, do you truly think a deity remains oblivious? Surely, it is exactly as Karen has done: leaving it out in the open, practically inviting you to take a secret look."

Alfred frowned slightly. "I feel as though you are talking nonsense, yet it somehow sounds perfectly reasonable."

"Look here. I truly never expected Karen to record so many amusing things. In this passage, he uses the affair of Madame Hughes as an example to analyze her persona... or, to be precise, to analyze the persona of the aberrant demon possessing her, evaluating its behavioral patterns."

"As expected of the great young master; his grasp of the human heart is truly astonishing."

"However, in his concluding remarks, he gives the demon possessing Madame Hughes a rather low appraisal, deeming him no true artist."

"Indeed, those who can win the young master's esteem are bound to be few and far between."

"Then, just below that, he has begun a fresh analysis, exploring how one might evaluate the demon's behavior if its capabilities were to be enhanced in every dimension."

In an instant, I felt the overwhelming urge to read on.

Caren wrote that the baseline of the psyche is humanity, yet its upper and lower limits break free from the realm of human nature entirely;

Below humanity lies animality, which possesses no aesthetic appeal and is rarely utilized, offering no value for analysis even when it does manifest.

Above humanity, however, is a realm steeped in mystery and the unknown; because it has endured the transition of human nature, analytical methods originating from humanity can naturally be applied when deciphering their behaviors.

Oh, heavens, I feel the young master is clearly analyzing divinity!

Purr pointed a paw at the passage before her,

Saying:

Caren gave an example: if you were trapped in a closed space with a true artist who surpassed Madame Hughes, how should you face her?

The design of this scenario is quite intriguing, likely because the young master himself is perfectly safe right now, so he feels that only within a specific regional space and environment can his theory be better extended?

Purr continued; Caren said that for this kind of artist, her aesthetic has completely surpassed the human domain, specifically manifested in the fact that she no longer views her hunted targets as equals to herself.

This does not mean she fails to recognize her targets as human, but rather that she feels she herself is no longer human; in her perspective, humans are low-level species equivalent to cats and dogs…

Ah, dammit meow!!!

Purr slapped the windowsill with her paw in frustration.

Woof!

The golden retriever let out a bark as well, propping its front legs on the windowsill and leaning its canine head close to read along.

Alfred exclaimed with excitement: Is this not precisely the perspective of a god looking down upon mortals?

Purr pouted and continued to read aloud:

Therefore, how does one avoid degrading to a status akin to pigs and dogs within this closed environment?

Whew, that feels better, meow.

Purr glanced at the golden retriever beside her.

The golden retriever’s brow was deeply furrowed.

Alfred translated it for himself: How to stop a god from viewing you as a pig or a dog?

Here, it is divided into three stages, Purr read.

As expected of the young master, to be able to categorize it so meticulously even here.

Woof!

The lowest stage is… being interesting.

Oh, the young master’s description here is truly interesting.

Woof!

It is just like a person who has just enjoyed a steak paired with a salad and a glass of wine at a restaurant. Stepping outside, they see a very cute stray dog. Upon seeing you, it proactively runs over, acting adorable to win your favor.

You will think it is very cute, you will smile at it, and you might even feel an irresistible urge to pet it. If you see it injured, your heart will ache for it, and you will simultaneously condemn those who abandon and harm dogs, feeling that you are different, that you are kind and compassionate;

Even though you just ate steak, consumed a vegetable salad, and drank grape juice, and the cow would feel pain, the vegetables would feel pain, and the grapes would weep.

Thus, you are not genuinely kind; you merely find this to be an interesting sort of kindness. If this stray dog were filthy and covered in fleas from head to toe, and instead of acting cute, it barked at you relentlessly, making a move to bite;

You would no longer think it cute; you would leave in a hurry, escaping this mad dog.

So profound. The image of Lord Dis taking the young master out to kill that night immediately surfaced in Alfred’s mind; along the way, he had carried the radio, dancing to the rhythm alongside the young master;

Oh, so that was it; was that what it meant to be interesting?

Alfred suddenly felt a wave of relief, glad that he had always maintained his own style before the young master instead of turning into a servant as flat as a mere sheet of paper.

The golden retriever, meanwhile, kept its mouth open in a perpetual grin; it had always been cute!

Purr, however, was slightly perplexed: So, my young mistress temper tantrum, is it also interesting in his eyes?

Continue, Alfred urged Purr.

The highest stage is to be exactly like them, fully integrating into their stance, achieving assimilation under their shared perspective.

Mm, which is:

Heaven and earth are ruthless, treating all things as straw dogs.

What on earth is this sentence supposed to mean?

Purr looked toward Alfred, who shook his head;

Purr then looked toward the golden retriever, which also shook its head;

Purr fell into deep thought: Could Caren really be writing a holy scripture for the church?

Continue, Alfred urged.

The lowest stage is too simple, entirely throwing oneself out there regardless of the consequences; the final stage is too difficult and unrealistic. Therefore, this middle stage possesses the highest practical feasibility.

And that is,

Within this closed space,

Strive,

To pretend,

To share the exact same aesthetic as the other party.

…

Is eating it like this truly delicious? Judia walked toward Caren.

Yes.

You say that I am too young? Judia continued her approach toward Caren.

Caren drew a clean, white handkerchief from his breast pocket—one originally meant as a decorative piece to wipe lenses—and proactively reached his hand out toward Judia;

Not entirely gently, but rather with a hint of force, he helped wipe the bloodstains from the young girl's face.

After wiping it clean,

Caren even smiled and gave the young girl’s cheek a couple of pinches.

You are indeed still just a young little cutie.

Instead of getting angry, Judia actually revealed a smile. She pressed her body closer to Caren, raising both hands, asking for a hug.

Caren leaned down slightly, allowing the young girl to wrap her arms around his neck.

The young girl carried the faint scent of expensive perfume, which smelled very pleasant.

Caren tried his best to conjure an illusion in his own mind that he was holding a cute little girl, rather than a ferocious beast that had just devoured flesh.

Judia, meanwhile, breathed softly into Caren’s ear,

Caren chuckled, doing his absolute best to control his voice so it wouldn't tremble:

Haha, that tickles.

Handsome older brother from the Allen family, do you know? From the very moment I climbed through the window and laid eyes on you, I was thinking, such a good-looking older brother would definitely taste delicious, hehehe.

"Haha."

Kallen laughed, and perhaps only the soaked lining against his back could betray just how terrified he truly was, yet he still reached out and brought his hand down hard in a sharp slap across her backside:

"Smack!"

"It hurts..."

"You really are a fool, a young and ignorant fool. Do you have any idea that speaking with you, interacting with you, is a sheer torment to my patience?

You idiot,

You low-born imbecile,

You wretched, flawed byproduct of the incestuous couplings within the Gloria family."

With each curse spat,

Kallen’s own heart gave a violent shudder, for every single line carried the very real consequence of having his throat ripped out then and there by this little girl.

But simultaneously, with every curse thrown, the young girl’s body trembled right along with them.

"Remember this: do not use your low-class tastes to measure true scenery, for it only makes you look like the horse manure you personally stuffed into your brother’s mouth."

"I..."

Kallen’s hand, placed at the back of Judia’s head, pressed down firmly, gripping and stroking her hair,

He said:

"Stuffing horse manure into your brother’s mouth is the kind of thing only a base creature like you would conceive. You should have chosen a clean pair of undergarments and forced his mouth to clamp down upon them.

Only in that way could you achieve a true mockery of him;

In fact, a mockery of the entire House of Gloria!

That is where the true artistic impact lies. When they smell horse manure, they can simply plug their noses, but upon witnessing such a scene, those outside the Gloria royalty would not be able to suppress a snicker, while every member of the Gloria royal bloodline would be consumed by fury and shame, as though the filthiest side of their very souls had been unveiled and displayed before the masses.

Oh, and right, for those undergarments, it would be best to choose those belonging to your great-grandmother, Her Majesty the Queen.

Only then would the artistic nuance be pushed to its absolute peak.

Wouldn't you agree?"

After uttering these words, Kallen felt as though his brain was suffering from severe oxygen deprivation;

Fortunately, the window stood open, allowing the cold wind to blow in continuously, preventing the cold sweat on his face from visibly dripping down.

Kallen felt Judia begin to sob in his embrace. Her tear ducts seemed remarkably active, already soaking his clothes with her weeping.

"Big brother... you are entirely right..."

Judia shifted her head back, looking up at Kallen:

"So... is there any way..."

Kallen looked down at her and said:

"Devouring me should be of some help to you."

Judia reached up, wiped her tears away, and offered a somewhat timid, bashful smile;

The meaning behind this smile was clear: she did, in fact, think exactly the same thing.

Kallen reached out, pinched her lips, and slowly applied pressure, pulling downward.

She did not move her head away, letting Kallen twist and tug at her lips at his whim.

"Because for garbage like you, the finest method of elevation is simple and brutal; this is your wretched, ignoble destiny."

Judia dissolved into fresh sobs, crying so heavily that her eyes were brimming, silver teardrops cascading down one after another.

"I... I... I understand my own baseness..."

As she spoke, Kallen noticed a new emotion brewing in the depths of her eyes; it was the awakening of her self-awareness.

Because her status was, after all, exceedingly noble in the eyes of outsiders;

Because her cultivation realm... though Kallen did not know exactly what rank her family's belief system held, it was certainly enough to grant her immense pride;

It was akin to being "swindled," where suddenly at a certain juncture, once your self-awareness snaps awake, you break free from the atmospheric illusion woven by such rhetoric and manipulation.

The most blunt and simple analogy would be a sycophant, regardless of gender, who had immersed themselves in self-pitying devotion for the longest time, only to suddenly wake up one day and desperately want to slap their own face:

Why did I make myself so pathetic?

A scam succeeds precisely because the victim desperately wishes for it to be true;

A game can go on only because the participant actively desires to play along;

Just like the scene before, Kallen did not believe it was due to his own brilliant schemes, but rather because he had piqued her interest, giving her a sense of immersion that made her want to proactively participate and push the game forward;

And the moment she found it dull and tedious or felt her venting was sufficient, she would choose to end the game, and simultaneously, end the life of this "playmate" of hers.

Therefore,

Kallen immediately pointed his finger at the portrait of Count Recar,

Saying:

"Last night when I went to converse with Count Recar, the Count was in the midst of intimacy with Queen Gloria III. Seeing my arrival, he pushed the Queen straight to the floor, threw a black pearl at her, and laughed as he told me:

A true pirate never owes a prostitute her hiring fee.

I can take you

To see Count Recar."

Judia’s mouth parted slightly, staring at Kallen in a bit of a daze.

"This is perhaps the opportunity the vast sea has bestowed upon you;

It is also the sole method by which you can alter your wretched fate and the filthy Gloria bloodline coursing through your veins."

Judia slowly stood up,

She wept no longer,

Instead, she was scrutinizing Kallen with absolute seriousness, her eyes carrying a maturity that did not belong to someone of her age group; there was even a faint, light blue watery shimmer rippling imperceptibly within them.

Right then, a knock at the door resounded, shattering the silence of this enclosed environment, bringing with it a wave powerful enough to upend everything here.

There was not the slightest hint of panic on Kallen’s face,

Even if his heart was practically lodged in his throat from that very knock,

He merely yanked with a touch of disgust at the damp patch on the front of his shirt where she had cried,

And then spoke to Judia with utter impatience:

"Go press the desk bell, I need to change my clothes."

———

More chapters coming tonight, the top spot is about to be overtaken, requesting monthly ticket support!